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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25037365">An Easy Target</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Photosynthetic_People/pseuds/Photosynthetic_People'>Photosynthetic_People</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Swords and Starlight [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Sorcery (Video Game), Steve Jackson's Sorcery! - Steve Jackson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, POV Second Person, the pov of you as Flanker</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 09:07:37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,346</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25037365</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Photosynthetic_People/pseuds/Photosynthetic_People</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Second person pov of Flanker as he attacks a wayfarer in the Shamutanti Hills, and gets more than he bargains for.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Swords and Starlight [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1798918</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>An Easy Target</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I felt so bad questioning him then getting then option to treat his wounds <em>afterwards</em>, I re-fought him just to write this because:reasons.<br/>It's also not a choose your own fic because I'm lazy and didn't feel like formatting it.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>You watch as your next target for practice walks through the woods eating a husk of bread. Her sword is new or never used, by the look of the hilt. She will be even easier to dispatch than the sven. You unsheathe your sword silently, stepping slowly, quietly in time with her steps. She turns and notices you in the shadows. You bring your blade to her neck. “You’ve seen me, I know it.” You whisper.</p><p>She calmly takes a step back, away from your sword. She stands up straight; she's taller than you had thought, perhaps a half head or so shorter than you. “I see nothing.” Her tone soothing, as though she thinks you are afraid of her. “You are quite safe. I promise.”</p><p>“It is not I who is not safe.” you retort. As if you would be afraid of her, it is she who should quake in fear at the mere sight of you.</p><p><em> "ZAP!" </em> She commands, lighting crackles in the palm of her hand. A damned sorceress! This close dodging will be difficult, you could also try to slit her throat before she lets the spell loose. Before you can decide the lighting strikes you square in the chest. The acrid smell of burnt leather, chard cloth and singed flesh, is nothing compared to the agony of the blast itself. You steady your stance as your ears ring and chest burn.</p><p>She's drawn her own blade in the time it took you to recover from the lightning strike. She did not press the advantage of your weakened guard when she had the chance.</p><p>It will prove her last mistake.</p><p>You utter the prayer of the murderer, asking Sindla for forgiveness. She moves in for a quick cut which you overpower. You slash her chest as she barely manages to block your blade from reaching her neck. She curses in the tongue of those from Analand.</p><p>You circle each other. “My duty is to sever your head from your neck. You will not hold me from it.” You tell her coldly, hoping to strike fear in her and give you an opening in her defense. It has the opposite effect.</p><p>She shifts her weight forward her sword level and you brace yourself to deflect her attack. She jabs at you testing your defences drawing a small amount of blood from your left leg. She's a far more cautious opponent than most you have faced.</p><p>You pray once more, asking Sindla for forgiveness seconds before you attack. This time however she parries the blow with ease, your blade barely grazes her arm as she turns swiftly to avoid it. A confident smile on her lips taunts you despite the wound you gave her moments ago.</p><p>Moving to slice her throat, you attack. She leaps forward overpowering your swipe with a precise skill you had not expected from a user of magic. Moving over your sword to make a merciless cut in the fresh lightning wound. Blood wells up from the wound as your legs give out from under you despite your best efforts to keep standing. You tumble to the ground, your sword falls from your hands as you try to catch yourself.</p><p>“I am not so proud as to not admit when I am beaten.” You groan. “You may finish me, if you so choose.” Meeting her golden gaze you request, taking a deep breath. “But if you do- do me an honour and use my own blade.” </p><p>Sindla has seen it fit to end your life here it would seem. It is a well deserved fate to meet your end at the hand of a wayfarer when so many have met their death at your hands.</p><p>She regards you with curious eyes, her sword still pointed towards your heart. She moves her blade back, not sheathing it but holding it back in a manner that makes it clear; Should you try to attack she will end you. “Then get up.” Sindla in her grace has deemed your life not yet forfeit it would seem.</p><p>You nod, moving slowly you sheath your sword. “You are a worthy victor. I am glad to meet you. Now that you have saved me, you own me, in part. My name is Flanker and I am an assassin and thief.” You inform her.</p><p>“Why did you attack me?” She demands.</p><p>“It was a simple matter. I pick on wayfarers for practice in hiding and in killing. I assumed you would be no match. But I see I was wrong.” You bow your head trying to ignore the pain.</p><p>“Then I have chosen my attire well after all.” She whispers to herself.</p><p>“Are you traveling to Kharè?” You ask.</p><p>"Why do you ask?" She queries back.</p><p>“That is the way I am going. Well, perhaps I will not see you again once we part now. But if we do, remember me. I will not forget the debt I owe you.” You tell her, as you press firmly on your wound to staunch the bleeding.</p><p>“What is your business in Kharè?” She asks you.</p><p>You look in her eyes. Would she strike you down, if you do not answer? You are not certain. Though you loathe to speak of a contract to others; it is unprofessional, you will not risk your life for your pride on something so trivial as the nobles' fear of goblins. “The nobles of this city have heard rumors. Goblins re-opening the old mines. They want to know why.”</p><p>"And have you found out why?" She questions.</p><p>“I believe so.” You whisper, the pain creeping into your voice. “It is not jewels or iron they are after. You know the history of these Hills, perhaps. They have not always been so poor, so underpopulated. Once, great powerful men lived here. Men of great knowledge and sorcery.”</p><p>“Long ago, they are long gone now.” There’s a wistful tone to her voice, perhaps Analand too has their own legends about the Hills.</p><p>"Not gone, changed. There is a village of giants in these hills. That is what those men became. The ancient miners once ran a city from Khakabad to the sea as far north as the Jaiker Mines. That was where they mined the ore that forged the crown. And it is that metal -that power- which the Goblins are searching for. If Mampang should rise, it will be their only hope.”</p><p>“I’m sure the crown will be recovered soon.” She shrugs her voice carries a carefree tone to it, but her eyes betray her objective. She seeks the crown and to retrieve it for her homeland.</p><p>"I will see you again, in Kharè.” You tell her fiercely, trying to hide the pain. It is of little use, you bow your head, gritting your teeth. “Go. You cannot aid me.” You hiss out.</p><p>“No.” She shakes her head. “I have caused your wounds. Then forced you to talk this long with them untreated. I will aid you, as I should have done earlier.” Her tone strangely apologetic, considering your earlier intentions to strike her down.</p><p>You grin despite the pain. “Are you a doctor? I do not think you are.”</p><p>“I may not be a doctor, but I know enough to get by.” She takes a jar of salve from her pack and using your own tattered shirt she treats then binds your wounds, the bleeding and pain lessen.</p><p>“You are too kind to a man who was about to kill you.” You murmur confused by her actions.</p><p>“Think of this as a lesson as to why one should not attack travelers.” She gathers her things; then drinks from a vial as she leaves the forest, leaving you behind. A song bird warbles loudly for a mate in the distance breaking the silence of the forest.</p><p>A pit of dread forms in your stomach as you remember your contract. If she makes it through Kharé you will be honor-bound to venture into the accused baklands... A place so befouled by magic none escape it unscathed.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I honestly think the female Analander is tall because if you compare her height to Flanker's (and most everything else she's pretty tall.) They're pretty even but he's all scrunched up during the fights and described as tall so that leads me to believe he's slightly taller than her.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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